A Place Where Everyone Is Blind

5- Laiba

"On judgment day only your deeds will count.
No one will ask about your caste or status."

Nadia was to marry her father's friends son Rayaan. They had come for her hand in marriage, I think both parties were unaware. I don't know, maybe he had more of an inkling than she did. Or maybe he just had a better poker face than her.

I felt bad for Nadia. She was entirely blind sighted.

I pretended not to hear her cries throughout the night to save her the humiliation of facing me in the morning, but we had to go to class together, so she knew I had heard her anyway.

The proposal her parents had given her was that she'd finish her studies, and then soon after they would do her nikkah. They bargained with her, tried to convince her that this was not forced and if she really did not want any part of it they would put it to rest. At least Nadia wasn't foolish. I would've believed them.

I heard her mother speak with her. She tried to win her over by telling her how rich his family was. How handsome he was. How he was a doctor now, how their family was raised with the same  values. How good of a fit they would be.

She didn't respond.

I went up to my room, their house was one of the biggest in the entire of Lahore. Nadia's family was one of the most known families in Punjab. My mother and I were the help. They gave us rooms, and treated us nice, so I couldn't really complain. We went to the same university, me and Nadia and although we hadn't known each other long, I think we got on quite well.

Though we didn't have that much in common. She was always wrapped up in her books, but when you lived with someone, you grew to find similarities.

My heart ached for her. I knew we were both at that age now where our parents would start the marriage talks. My mother hadn't started with me yet thankfully. I was sure my father would have but he didn't live with us now. He lived in Sargoda for work, to send us money.

But I knew that marriage for me and marriage for Nadia would be two entirely different stories.

Her family, like I said, was one of most well known in Punjab. Me on the other hand?
Families wouldn't exactly be lining up to marry the daughter of a maid and a clerk.

A week had passed since the dinner. Me and Nadia didn't speak much about it, instead we talked about other things, clothes, family gossip, the talks of the university.

She told me about a boy she had bumped into at Adnan's bookstore. She said she found it strange to see an Arab in Punjab. That's what she said anyway when I asked why she took an interest. Bad poker face, like I said.

She was out with her parents, I had no idea where. I was home alone, mama had gone out to get groceries. I was in the middle of studying when I heard a knock at the door. Covering myself with a long dupatta I opened it slowly.

Rayaan was here.

His hair was open, last time he had come he had tied it up. It was longer than I expected. And curly. It was wet, he pushed some of it back away from his eyes.

I lowered my gaze, but he followed it, tilting his head down.

"Salaam." He greeted politely.

"Salaam." I responded meekly, all of a sudden shy from his stare.

"I left my jacket."